Yellow for Youth and Joy
by Peggie
Summary: How will Bruce react to Dick's death? (Two more chapters added as requested)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: DC Comics and Time/Warner own All the characters; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright.

I haven't killed anyone off in a story yet so I decided to give it a go. Apologies to all Nightwing fans!

Yellow for Youth and Joy

By

Peggie

"Nearly there Dick, almost home." I hear him moan quietly in response to my words. I don't know what else to do, there's blood everywhere, it's dripping down off the seats onto the floor of the car. I am doing what Alfred instructed, I am applying pressure to the abdominal wound, but still the blood is just pouring out of him. Its covering my gauntlet, the dressing I am using has just become a soaking red rag. I tighten the tourniquet around his leg a little more.

"God, this is my son. You can't take my son away." I know I just shouted that out because I see Alfred's eyes mist over when I glance at his image on the monitor.

"Bruce, Son, you've got to keep your nerve. Dr Leslie's on her way. I've got everything ready here!" He reassures me.

He doesn't need to ask how Nightwing is, how his grandson is, because he can see from the medical monitors. I can tell from his face that he is every bit as aware of how serious the injuries are as I am.

Oracle alerted us to the fact that Dick had lost contact on the outskirts of Gotham almost twenty minutes ago. He'd been following a truck seen in the area where toxic waste was being illegally dumped. When I found him he was at laid in the road seriously injured. He'd been run off the road. His bike totally crushed under the wheels of a truck. From the look of him Dick had been dragged along. His leg is almost severed and he has massive abdominal wounds.

Hospital would be better, but it's too far away, Dick won't make it. The cave is only a third of the distance. If I can get him there Alfred can stabilise him. I know Alfred can save him. He's saved me from death so many times. I know he can save Dick, he's got to be able to do it! Once Dick is stabilised, then we can get him to hospital. To hell with the questions it may raise, to hell with the possibility of blowing Batman's cover, I would give up everything for this young man, for my son!

Without slowing we pass through the caves entrance. As we skid to a halt I see Alfred stood ready in surgical greens. He's got the infirmary ready, bags of blood are stacked up on the equipment trolley next to the examination table. 

"We're here son!" I whisper. "Alfred's going to sort you out and Leslie's on her way."

I lift the boy out of the car, he doesn't murmur or groan. The bleeding has slowed, Thank God!

I rush him over to the table and gently lay him down. I see Alfred examine Dick, then he hesitates, he stops, and he seems to crumble.

A grab him by the shoulders and scream at him to help my son.

"You're letting him die! Do something!" I scream into his face.

Alfred just shakes his head. Tears causing down his tired old face, he utters the words I don't want to hear. "Bruce, it's too late, there's nothing I can do, he's gone!"

"He's not, you can save him, I know you can. Do something." I plead.

Alfred just shakes his head. He's trying to embrace me but I fight him off. 

I grab the defibrillator paddles a try shocking my son's heart back to life. I am still at it ten minutes later when Leslie enters the cave.

Alfred is just sat in a chair, watching the macabre pantomime as Dicks body jerks every time I apply the paddles. Shocked at the loss of Dick he is unable stop me. 

Leslie pulls the plug to the defib unit and I am still stood there pressing buttons. Gently she tries to lead me away. That's when I turn on my life long friend. I do the unforgivable, I try and lay my guilt on him.

I pull the fragile, broken old man out of his seat and scream into his face. "You let him die, he's dead because of you! You could have saved him, it's your fault, you senile old fool!"

I feel a sharp slap across my face and feel Leslie pulling my hand off Alfred's jacket. He sinks back into the chair sobbing. I run off up to the Manor, to the library and lock myself in, this is my sanctuary, this is where I come to hide from pain. I look at the portrait of my parents, but I am too numb to feel anything.

Leslie is quietly knocking on the door calling my name, but I just ignore her. I curl up into a ball and sob.

It's almost daybreak and I am laid on the floor in the library. At first I am confused then I remember and I feel sick with the pain. When I open the door Leslie is sat on a chair across the hall. I look around for Alfred but he's not there. 

"Where's Alfred?" I ask hesitantly.

"He's sorting things out!" she whispers tears flowing down her face. "There was nothing he could have done Bruce. There was nothing anyone could have done, even the best hospital surgical team couldn't have saved him."

"I know." I mutter guilt at my actions cutting what's left of me to pieces.

"Well, please tell Alfred that, because I not sure he knows what to believe right now. You weren't the only one who loved Dick!" 

She's crying too, sobbing for a lost grandson. So I hold her tight.

"Alfred's made it look like Dick's bike went off the cliff just north of here, at Deadmans Bend. We can not have the body found Bruce, not with the defibrillator burns." Leslie whispers.

I shudder when I remember what I did last night. At the wounds I inflicted not only on the body of my dead son but on the soul of my closest friend. And despite what I did, still he's working at making things right for Bruce Wayne for Batman.

When I find him Alfred's in the Wayne cemetery he's just finished digging a grave next to my parents. It's covered over with boards and turf so prying eyes won't see it. He looks exhausted and for a moment fearful of me. That look of fear in his face shames me. How can I ever let him know how sorry I am? 

"I though you would like him to be close to your parents. Then you can keep all your loved ones together."

I see tears in his eyes as he turns and walks away. All I can do is stand and watch. Then I sink down on the grass that covers my parent's graves and cry. 

I find Alfred in the cave dressing Dick in clean clothes and talking to his dead grandson. I stand and listen because I am afraid if I move he'll hear me and I'll see the fear in his face again. I don't think I could stand to see that.

"I've always been so proud of you both, but you knew that though, didn't you." I hear him say in a broken voice, just above a whisper. "I also loved you both so much, that I felt physically sick, seeing you dash out into danger every night. I knew this day would come, when I would lose one or even both of you. But that doesn't make it any easier. Believe me, there was nothing I could do Dick," his voice catches, "I am sure there wasn't; despite what Bruce thinks; I couldn't save you, it was too late." He sound anything but sure, he sounds like a man trying to convince himself that what he is saying is true. "If I could son, I would gladly swap places with you right now. In fact I wish I was dead." 

He stops talking and sinks into the chair head buried in his hands unable to continue. I kneel next to the chair but he's too lost in his grief to notice. I pull his frail body into my arms and hold him close. As I hold him I keep telling him how sorry I am. That it wasn't his fault. That I love him. I've not told him that since I was ten. After a while he returns the embrace and its my turn to cry. I am crying for the loss of the young man who became my son. Also for the pain I inflicted on the man who became my father.

Looking at us both Leslie stands near. When Alfred releases me, she put her arms around me, then Alfred. I see them talking then quietly Alfred leaves.

"You'll want some time alone with Dick, Bruce, to say your goodbyes." With that she walks away.

I nod, my heart seems to shatter, goodbye is so permanent. I look at Dick, at my son, my heir and I don't know what to say. I just lift his limp body into my arms and hold him close. Why the hell didn't I do this when he was alive? After what seems an eternity I find the words I want.

"I am sorry son, for all the fights, for all the arguments. I was always so proud of you, so proud. I loved you Dick, so much,.. perhaps too much. I hope you knew that's!"

"He knew it Bruce and he loved you too, just as much!"

I turn around and see Barbara Gordon; Oracle, sittings in her wheel chair. Her face red from crying looking at me with soft blue eyes. "He always loved you just as if you were his father. Like most father and sons you couldn't agree but that didn't stop you loving each other." 

I nod as I lower Dick's body back onto the table. Barbara moves closer and takes his hand.

"Can I have some time alone with him?"

I leave her to say her goodbyes.

Alfred and Leslie are sitting in the kitchen. He's wearing his chauffeur's uniform, which explains how Barbara got here. 

"The mail man comes down past Deadmans Bend about ten. There are very few other vehicles use the road, so I don't expect the police until eleven at the earliest. It's five now we should get the funeral started by half six at the latest." Alfred is saying. 

"What about a casket?" I ask. "I refuse to see my son just..."

"I've sorted that." Leslie says. "We're going to use one of the viewing caskets from the clinic. Alfred and I are just about to go and collect it."

I hear the old couple leave. I return to the cave to keep vigil for my son.

I don't know where Alfred found the old Circus Performer's prayer he said over Dick's grave but it perfectly summed up Dick, his life and his death. 

As the two women return to the house I stay and helped Alfred make good. The final touch is a bright yellow rose.

"Yellow for youth and joy, Master Dick had both in abundance!" the old man said.

As he left me alone at the graveside I made a silent vow to get the people who stole him from us. 

It's almost twelve thirty when the police come. Alfred, Barbara, Leslie and I are in the study when the doorbell sounds. Like a troop of actors waiting for the curtain to go up, we looked at each other. Alfred stands up, pulls his jacket straight and set his shoulders square. He leaves the room closing the doors behind him. We can hear voices softly speaking. Then more distinctly we heard Alfred's voice just outside the door. "I will break the news, sir, if you would please wait here."

He enters the room closing the door behind him, his face deathly white. Both women are already crying and I, I don't know what to do. "Your first reaction Bruce must be disbelief, denial is the first stage. Come on son, you can do it, for Batman," Alfred whispered "for Nightwing, for Dick." 

And I play my part to perfection. The denial, then the grief (although that isn't play-acting). Alfred and I go with Jim Gordon to view the site of the supposed accident. Parts a Dick's vintage Harley were spread across the road, including the license plate. A large skid mark leads towards a gaping hole in the crash barrier and the remains of the bike can be seen on the rocks below. God it is so convincing, I don't want to think how the old man standing next to me had done it. I had a fair idea and the though of it scares me. 

Jim explains what they thought had happened. He also explains how he has diving teams out looking for the body. Black laughter welled up inside me. Only Alfred calming embrace keeps it from spilling out.

Jim explains to me gently, what will happen if no body can be found. After a while we return to the Manor and Jim leaves to take his daughter home.

Leslie wants to give me a sedative, but I refuse. I make Alfred take one and leave Leslie looking after him. I know what ever happens they will be there to comfort each other. 

I manage to rest for a while, to recover my energy. It'll be getting dark soon. So I change and become Batman. The change doesn't stop the pain but it gives it a purpose. I've got a vow to keep to my son. I intend to make the low life scum who killed my son pay.

"I love you Dick," I whisper as I stand before his grave, "I always did and always will." With that I set off hunting out the low life. 


	2. In Loving Memory

In Loving Memory 

In Loving Memory

Tim Drake was standing looking at the plain area of grass next to the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne. The only thing to show that this was a site of significance a single Yellow rose laying on the ground.

Tears roll down the boy's face. "Dick, I am sorry I wasn't here, I didn't know!" he whispers.

He jumps as a hand is placed on his shoulder. He turns his tear stained face toward the man standing next to him. "Why didn't you let me know straight away. I would have like to have been here. I loved Dick too."

"I know that Master Tim, so does Master Bruce, but it wasn't possible to wait. It's because you loved him that I've told you about this place. Only five of us know and it must remain our secret! I must have your solemn promise on that"

The boy nods "On my mothers soul!" the boy murmurs, to Tim there is no more solemn promise he can give. Tim's eyes move away from the old mans haggard face and travel across the grass that covers the unmarked grave of Richard Grayson. 

Alfred stiffly bends down and picks up the yellow rose laid on the grave. It is showing the first signs of wilting. He replaces it with a fresh specimen.

"All your friend will be with us today, Master Dick, I wish I could bring them all here to see your grave, but that's not possible. Today you will see how much you meant to so many people. How many lives you changed, how much you were loved and... how much you are missed."

The old man abruptly turns away, tears on his face. Tim takes his hand.

"Why can't Dicks friends know where he is buried? Why couldn't Dick's body be found? Come on Alfie, I've a right to know!"

Alfred just shakes his head. "Ask Master Bruce!" is all he mutters before he walks away.

"Some good that would do me!" he says bitterly. Then Tim notices that the old man is walking stiffly. He hurries to catch him up. "You OK Alfie, he asks, taking the mans arm. You don't look too good."

"I am perfectly fine Master Tim." The man says using his most infuriating civil butler's tone. They enter the house by the garden door that leads into the study.

"You're just as bad as Bruce." the boy fumes turning on his friend, anger at his stubbornness, overcoming polite behaviour. "You're not all right, nor is Bruce. But neither of you will admit it. Bruce's fists look like he's hit every low life punk in Gotham and you look like death and you're walking around like you're in serious pain, but all I get from either of you when I ask is 'I am Perfectly Fine'. Tim stops when he sees the look of anger on the old mans face.

"Sir, I may be a servant, but my life is my own. Please let me have some privacy."

"I only want to know because I care." Tim pleads, but the old man has gone.

"I know you care Tim, that's what makes it so good to have you here right now." a quite female voice says.

Tim runs up to Leslie and he hugs her tight.

"Bruce has been out every night since Dick.. died... looking for those responsible. When he doesn't get the answers he wants, he's letting his fists do the talking." She says quietly.

"I figured that. He was the same after Jason died." Tim remarks.

"That's why it's so good that you're here to help him." Leslie says smiling in a sad way.

"Yeah, if he'll let me." Tim mutters. "And Alfie, how did he get hurt?"

"Alfred got hurt, when he staged the accident at Deadmans Bend. It's mainly bruising and a couple of cracked ribs. It's not serious. His main problem is he's worried sick about Bruce. We both are."

"Where's Bruce now?"

"He's working in the cave."

"I'll go see if I can help him." Tim says.

Leslie smiles, "I'll go and talk to Alfred, he'll be busy getting things ready for ....after.." she wipes a tear away and turns abruptly heading for the kitchen.

The only light in the cave is coming from the giant viewing screen. Bruce is sat in front of it watching the information scrolling down the screen. A tray of food stands, cold and untouched on the table next to his chair. Bruce shakes his head, "Nothing, nothing, the clue has got to be here!" he mutters slamming his fist down in frustration on to the table.

"Perhaps you're looking too hard, Bruce."

The man turns to face the boy, his face set hard. "It here Tim, I've got to find it." 

"You will, but right now there are other thing as important, if not more so."

"Like what?"

"Like the memorial service, like being there for your family. Li... "

"What family? I've got no family, not now Dick's gone." Bruce whispers.

"What about Alfred, what about Leslie?" Tim asks. "They are your family. They need you to be there for them." 

Bruce is shaking his head, "I can't go, I've got to solve this, I've ...!" 

"Do you know I think you're the most self centred individual I've ever met". Tim shouts. "Not only are the old couple who raised you, mourning their grandson, they are worried sick about you. Have you seen how ill Alfred looks, how scared Leslie is. She's afraid that she going to lose him, and you. It won't take much to put the old guy under, then you can arrange for another grave in your private cemetery. " With that he storms back up to the house. 

He heads for the kitchen but stops when he sees a weeping Leslie being comforted by her friend. He feels tears running down his own face. Tim starts to head out of the kitchen but Alfred beckons him in. "It's all right son." he says, voice breaking. He removes one arm from around Leslie and holds it out to Tim. The boy moves closer and finds a comfort in his friend's embrace.

The old church in the centre of Gotham is full, friends from both of Dick's lives are there, his Titan team mates, old high school friends, Clark and Lois Kent, representatives from the Blündhaven police department, friends from his old circus days. 

Jim Gordon is sat on the far side of the second pew from the front holding the hand of his daughter Barbara, whose wheelchair is parked next to him. Leslie is sat on the other side of Jim, both women are trying not to cry. This is supposed to be a celebration of Dick's life.

Alfred is stood at the door, greeting people, doing this job enables him hold on.

"Any sign of Bruce?" Tim whispers as the time approaches to start the service.

The old man drops his eyes and shakes his head before turning away.

Then suddenly Bruce's there, dressed in a black suite. He squeezes Tim's arm before hurrying to catch Alfred up. Tim watches Bruce place an arm around his old friend, then he guides him down to the front of the church. Alfred stops at the second pew but Bruce guides him to the front. Then he collects Leslie and seats her next to Alfred, before sitting beside them. Smiling grimly Tim sits next to Jim Gordon.

The service is what Dick would have wanted a celebration of a life well lived. Bruce speaks of a brave son, his police officer partner tells of a loyal friend. Alfred has lost it, he cannot stop the silent tears. Leslie is holding him tight trying to comfort him. Bruce moves over and sits on the other side of his friend and put an arm around him. He leans back toward Tim.

"Tim, could you read this for Alfred?" he asks.

Tim looks at the neatly folded sheet of paper and nods.

There's not a dry eye in the place after he's finished reading the Circus Performers prayer.

The reception is at the Gotham Hilton, everyone is there except, Alfred, Leslie and Bruce.

Tim looks around for his friends and finally spots Bruce coming in to the room from the direction of the service elevator.

"Alfred needed to go home." Bruce says. At the boys worried look he adds "He'll be OK Tim, Leslie is with him, he just needs to rest."

"How about you Bruce, how are you doing?" Tim asks.

"Hanging in there, you know?"

"I know." Tim adds.

"Tim thanks for this morning, it needed saying. I do tend to be self-centred, you're right. That's always been my problem. Are you up to helping me tonight. I want to review what I've discovered so far. Then tomorrow we, can find out who did this together. I need a partner's help to solve this one." 

Tim nods and Bruce smiles grimly. "We're going to find them Tim. They're going to pay!"


	3. Payment Time

Payment Time

"Let's start at the beginning Bruce, not with who killed Dick, but with where those chemicals came from. We find that out and we find the killers." Tim says.

Bruce calls up the information on the chemicals found dumped in Blündhaven. "Dick brought two samples in for me to do an analysis for him about two weeks ago." Bruce says quietly. "At the time it seemed a pretty straight forward, simple case. One the police should have been able to handle. Then two days before... before..! Dick called to say the police case had been put on hold and he would be investigating it in his capacity of Nightwing."

"Did he say anything else?" Tim asked.

Bruce shook his head. Quickly turning his chair around to face the computer.

"Tri Benzol Dioxide is the by products of two factories in Gotham. Wayne Bio Tech and Cooper Price Chemicals." Bruce confirms as he reads the computer print out.

"I am assuming we can eliminate Wayne Bio Tech as the likely source of the dumped chemicals?" Tim asks.

Bruce scowls at the boy. 

"Just checking." Tim says. "So tonight we pay a visit to Cooper Price and see who handles their waste disposal.

Cooper Price Chemicals occupies a site just west of Gotham Park. The whole place is run down. Leaking pipes drip noxious fluid into deep stagnant pools. The perimeter fence has more holes in it than a tea strainer and the security guard is asleep. 

The two crime fighters are stood in the silent officers. Robin running a search on computer files, while Batman combs through the filing cabinet with the aid of a torch. 

"Nothing, rings any bells here." Tim whispers. 

Batman is scanning Bank statements, "Notch one up for the old methods" Batman says.

"What did you find Tim?" asks.

With that the security guard bursts in gun draw, but eyes closed. "Stand still, I've called the police!" he yells.

In a lightening movement Batman kicks the gun clean out of the man's hand. He has the man by the shirtfront and is about to slam a fist into his face when Robin grabs his arm.

"Batman, what are you doing?" he hisses into his friend ear. "He's an old guy, Alfies' age, he probably doesn't get paid much. He certainly doesn't deserve his lights punching out."

Batman hesitates, takes a deep breath and lowers his arm. He sits the old man in a chair while Robin hands the man a cup of water from the cooler.

Looking at the man closely Batman can see he's old, at least sixty-five and frail. He feels sick that he almost punched this guy and punched him hard. If Robin hadn't of stopped him he would probably been responsible for killing the old man.

"What do you know about chemicals being illegally dumped?" Robin asks.

"Nothing, the man stammers. All I do is what it says on my sheet, walk around the site every two hours. Some nights I have to wait for delivery trucks to come, I let them in. That's all I do. 

"But you supervise what the delivery drivers do surely?" Robin asks.

"No on days that deliveries are due young Mr Price is in working late. It's not my place to snoop around. I need this job, Batman!" the old man pleads. "My pension doesn't cover the hospital bills for my wife." The old man is crying.

"What's your name," Batman enquires "and what hospital is your wife in?" 

"Alden, Jack Alden. My wife Edith, is in The General. Why?"

"You just quit your job Jack, I've a friend who'll take care of your wife's medical bills that's a promise. All you need to do is tell us when the next delivery is due. Then you tell the police you disturbed a couple of kids trying to break in. In the morning you quit is that understood."

The old man nods, hope lights up his tired old face. "The next delivery will be tomorrow night. They arrive about eleven stay an hour then go. I ain't supposed to take down the license plate on the vans. I thought that was strange because I have to on all other vehicles entering the site. So just to cover myself I kept my own personal log of what days and times they came and the license plate number." The old man fumbled in his wallet, then hands Batman a piece of crumpled paper."

"You'll testify to this being true in court." Batman asked.

"Sure will, I don't owe these people anything, they pay less than minimum wage and exploit everyone. I only work here so my Edith, is taken care of. This place is a disaster area. They're getting away with murder here."

"No, they're not, not this time." Batman says his voice full of meaning.

Batman and Robin stand hidden behind the air-cooling system and listen to Jack telling the police about the attempted break-in.

"You take care pop," one of the cops says, "this isn't a job for a guy of your age."

"You're right there. In fact I am going to quit in the morning. They don't pay well enough to risk getting killed."

As the cops leave Jack hears a soft voice on the wind. "Go home old man, we'll make sure your wife gets the best treatment." 

As they get back in the car Batman starts a trace on the vans license plates. "Chapman Delivery Services, Chapman Street." He mutters.

"Do we go there now?" Robin asks?

"No, we go home now. A break in at both companies on the same night might just start alarm bells ringing. Anyway it's nearly daybreak and Alfred will be expecting us back."

Alfred is waiting for them in the cave. A plate of sandwiches and two glasses of milk are on the table. Tim jumps out of the car almost before it stops and rushes up to the old man. "You OK Alfie." he asks as he hugs the old man carefully.

"I am Perf.." the man starts then looking into the boys face he stops and gives a truthful answer, "I am getting there, young sir, I am getting there slowly." 

Tim smiles and hugs the man a fraction tighter.

"Good to see you up old friend." Bruce says squeezing the old man's shoulder. He is still shaken from the night's events and it shows.

"Are you all right sir?" Alfred asks concerned.

"Like you Alfred, I will be, right now I've got a couple of jobs for you. One is to arrange payment of hospital bills for Edith Alden at the General hospital. The usual anonymous benefactor routine. Second I want you to get me copies of bank statements from the First Bank of Gotham for Cooper Price Chemicals account number four. When you find the details I want you to try and find a link to this firm Chapman Delivery Services. Two vans owned by them have been seen entering the chemical plant at night" 

The old man nods "Right away sir, I take it you are on to Master Dick's killers."

"That we are Alfred, and with luck this time tomorrow they will be made to pay. 

"Any luck with the research." Tim asks the old man seated at the computer terminal.

"Mm.. some" Alfred replies distracted. "I've found a possible link, but it's not sound enough to get a conviction on. It's at best circumstantial evidence."

"Where's Bruce?" Tim asks.

"Lawyers meeting, about Master Dick.. , because there was no body..you know!" The old man sounds close to tears.

"Any chance of some lunch, I am famished," Tim states, "nothing light, I need the works, a full scale 'special brunch' with all the trimmings."

"Add two more to that order," a deep voice calls from the top of the stairs, "I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks and I've never known Leslie turn down one of your meals Alfred." Bruce says his voice maybe a fraction too cheerful.

Plates cleared away the four friends hold a council of war.

"I don't want these punks on the chemical dumping charges I want them for murder. They are going to pay for Dick's death." Bruce says.

"Well if we find the van that hit Dick then there will certainly be DNA evidence available. No matter how hard they try to remove it. We've go blood Dick donated at the clinic, so if you find the van that hit Dick we can prove it." Leslie said.

"But that's all it will prove that the van hit him." Bruce said. "They could claim it was an accident!"

"There is also the problem of there being no body. Dick Grayson died in an accident on Deadmans Bend. You cannot blame that on anyone." Tim stated.

The three adults around the table looked at the boy. "He's right Bruce, you will have to settle for the dumping of toxic waste charge, it does mean prison for those convicted." Leslie said quietly.

Bruce looked angry and defeated! "But where's the justice for Dick in that!"

"You will have completed Nightwing's final case for him. He would have appreciated that!" Tim mutters.

Alfred looks pensive. "I've got an interesting aside on the money, the day after Master Dick was killed, $50,000 was paid from Cooper Price Chemicals into Dean Porter's, the owner of Chapman Delivery services, private account; it then was transferred to a man called Masterson Smith. A private detective who specialises in divorce cases. Usually pretty sordid stuff, video evidence of nocturnal activities, you know, couples in cars, or motel rooms or cabins." Alfred stopped. "I've checked the maps there's a pretty secluded cabin owned by Daniel Rudge that almost overlooks the road. Mrs Rudge is suing for divorce." 

"You think this Masterson Smith may have filmed the incident?" Bruce asks hopefully.

"Yes Sir, and if he did, well you wouldn't need a body, not if it was graphic enough! I mean who's to say the people who killed him didn't dispose of Nightwing's body themselves to cover their tracks. We have his Motorcycle that can be used to incriminate the villains." 

"Alfred, you're talking about falsifying evidence!" Leslie said amazed that her friend would suggest such a thing.

"No Leslie, I am proposing we give Justice a helping hand."

"But surely Porter and Price will have destroyed the tape." Tim said. 

"They definitely will have done, but I am betting if this Private detective is as low as Alfred implies, he will have made more than one copy. After all it could prove to be a nice little nest egg for him." Bruce said. 

"So what's our plan Bruce?" Tim asks.

"Step one is the tape, we pursued Mr Masterson Smith that he should donate the tape to our safe keeping. Then I am sure we can persuade him to throw himself on Jim Gordon's mercy. I mean if he thought his life was in danger and the only way to protect himself was to relinquish the tape. Alfred, how's your marksmanship these days? Still able to hit a Nat's eye at a 1000 yards?"

The old man smiles, "I will certainly be able to ensure the gentleman thinks he's had a luck escape. Seeing as Mr Smiths office is on the Top Floor of the old Argon Building, how about an hit from a helicopter, that will suggest money and a professional hitman."

"Nice touch Alfred, know where you can steal one from?" Bruce asked. 

"The old man smiled, I know just the place. They'll never know it's even been moved."

Leslie was looking at her friend in amazement. "Alfred, there's a side to you I never knew about!"

"Having second thoughts about knowing such an old villain?" Tim asks with a smile.

"No, I am just wondering what he's really been up to when he tells me he's spent the day doing the laundry." 

Masterson Smith proved to be a small weasel faced man with a nervous tick. He was looking at the two vigilantes with utter disbelief. "An international hitman after me, oh come on why would a hitman want to kill me? I deal with local divorce cases, nothing more."

"That's not what we heard, we heard you had a very interesting tape for sale." Batman stated. The problem is the last purchaser got to hear you didn't quite keep your side of the bargain. So Mr Porter and his associates employed a hitman to make sure you didn't infringe any copy right that Mr Porter now thinks he owns."

Masterson was getting worried. His Adams apple was moving up and down his throat and he was pulling at his tie.

The clatter of a helicopters blades could be heard close by. It was hovering over the old dock. Masterson Smith turned around to look out at the helicopter, when the window shattered and he felt a bullet rip through the sleeve of his jacket. Batman pulled the man to the floor as two more shots entered the room.

The helicopter veered off and was quickly gone from the scene.

"You've got to protect me Batman, I didn't know what the tape was at first, I'd been on a case that hadn't worked out ,when I saw a chase on the road, so I filmed it. They knocked the guy off his bike, while I was filming. I never expected them to then back over him."

Batman slumped down on the side of the desk he felt sick. Masterson didn't seem to notice.

"You got it all on film. They couldn't claim it was an accident?" Robin asked weakly.

"No way! I even got the bit where they got out of the van to check he was dead. That's when they caught sight of me. Luckily I know that area like the back of my hand although they nearly had me twice."

"What happened to the body?" Batman asked.

"I guess they disposed of it because I didn't see any reports of it being found."

"I am taking you in to Commissioner Gordon, your only hope is to hand the tape in, make a statement and then go on the witness protection program. Because the guy they've set to kill you is a fanatic. He won't except failure, he's never missed before so I don't think he'll rest until he gets you."

Masterson was so grateful to be taken to police headquarters in the Batmobile he would have given them anything they wanted. 

An hour later a grim faced Jim Gordon approached Batman. "I am sorry old friend, it's defiantly Nightwing they killed. There's no way he survived what they did to him. Do you want to see the tape.., I wouldn't advise it though!"

Batman shook his head and Gordon saw tear in his eyes. "There's no body Jim, will there be enough to convict them?"

"After seeing that tape there's no way they could wriggle out of it. There's also going to be forensic on the van, and the shot of the drivers face in close up when he go out to….! Well lets just say it's an open and shut case with Smith's testimony." Gordon squeezed Batman's shoulder. "Any idea what Nightwing was doing there."

Batman filled Gordon in on the case of the illegal dumping of chemical waste. Batman and Robin watched from a hill overlooking the site, as the police swooped on the two vans that left the Cooper Price compound with their next loads of toxic waste. They saw the police searches of the site unearth the remains Nightwing's bike from the back of a Cooper Price van. 

Five people looked down on the grave of Richard Grayson. A small headstone had been erected on the site and a single yellow rose covered in early morning dew shimmed against the green of the grass.

"We may have had to bend the truth to achieve Justice Dick," Bruce said quietly, "but there's no way they'll get out of this. It's now time for them to pay and pay heavily for what they did to you son. You can now rest in peace."


	4. Healing

Healing

Healing

By

Peggie

Leslie was stood in the doorway of Bruce's study, the scene in front of her was an unusual one. Bruce was sat on the couch his head bowed and Alfred was sat next to him gently resting a hand on his arm. The very fact the old man was sat down alerted Leslie to how serious the matter was.

"Sir, how are you going to explain Bruce Wayne's presence at the trial?" Alfred asked exasperated at the young mans proposed action. "You and Tim have no legitimate reason to be there! If you must attend then you have to go as Batman and Robin. As colleagues of Nightwing you should be there."

Bruce shook his head. "It would be like denying Dick justice." Bruce muttered.

"Bruce, Dick was Nightwing, that was his life, his inner self. Just as you are Batman. I cannot say I like the fact that you prefer to be Batman rather than Bruce Wayne, but I have to accept it. Like I have always lived with the fear that some night Batman will die and Bruce Wayne will be gone too." 

"Whatever happens in that courtroom Master Bruce, you must remember the victim was Nightwing not Master Dick. Master Dick died in a tragic accident at Deadman's Curve!"

Leslie saw the old man shake his head. "There are times I think I did the wrong thing staging that accident. Perhaps you would have been happier if the lad had been found. If the world knew Dick was Nightwing."

Leslie saw Alfred's frail veneer on self-control starting to crack. Dick's murder had hit him hard. He still was plagued by the fear he could have saved the boy if he had only tried hard enough. Bruce's accusation on that tragic night still caused him to wake up screaming. Despite Leslie's assurances and Bruce's continued apologies, those words haunted Alfred. Some nights he hardly slept, Leslie would wake to find Alfred in some part of the Manor cleaning with a frantic determination as if trying to erase the doubts from his mind. 

Bruce was just as distraught, he blamed himself for Dick being Nightwing, for the arguments between Dick and himself, and for not being able to save his son that night. He also ached for what he had done to Alfred. Seeing the man, who had always been like a father to him, crumbling under the weight of undeserved guilt tore at Bruce's heart.

Alfred moved to stand up, before he lost his self-control. Seeing how close Alfred was to tears Bruce pulled him into an embrace and held him tight. "No old friend, you did everything right that night. As always, you did exactly the right thing for Dick, and for me. I had no right to say different." Bruce assured his friend.

Leslie saw Alfred struggling to pull away from Bruce before he lost control, but Bruce held him tight. "I will not lose you Alfred, my stupidity lost me my son. I won't lose a father as well." Leslie felt a lump in her throat. Both men were crying at last, they were sharing their grief, instead of trying to appear strong for the others sake. Perhaps now they would start to heal.


	5. Justice

Justice

Justice

By

Peggie

The media circus outside Gotham courthouse thronged forward trying to get the best pictures of the dynamic duo as they left the court building. The appearance of the two crime fighters to hear the verdict had been a sensation. Normally Batman and Robin were creatures of the night. To get a chance to see them in the full light of day was every news hounds dream. Police security around them was tight, Gordon was taking no chances that the two men would be unmasked.

"Batman what do you think to the verdict?" Summer Gleeson called towards the Dark Knight.

"I feel justice has been served!" Batman answered. "A brave young man was killed trying to keep our Cities safe. It's only right that those who murdered such a fine young man should pay."

Batman still couldn't rid himself of the video image of the truck backing over Nightwing's body as he lay injured on the road. He had thought long and hard about seeing it, but finally knew he had to. He had pursued Gordon to let him view the tape in private. Batman had sat in the dark and wept for an hour afterwards. But now he was sure that what Tim, Alfred and he himself had done to bring about the conviction of Nightwing's killers had been right. As Alfred said sometimes justice needed a helping hand.

"Have they found Nightwing's body." A reporter shouted. Batman shook his head.

"What do you think to the defendants claims that they may have hit him but they never touched the body. Or the defence claim Nightwing could still be alive. My paper intends to follow up the claim!" 

Robin grasped Batman's arm before he could let fly at the man. "Did you see the videotape showing Nightwing being deliberately run over?" Robin asked. The man shook his head. "I suggest you do, because as four expert medical witnesses have already stated, no one could survive that sort of trauma. View the tape and you'll see why they said it. As for the guilty verdict and the life sentences, all we have to say is justice has been done. Now it's time for his family to start to rebuild their shattered lives."

Batman turned to face the cameras, "Nightwing was like a son to me. I was very proud of his achievement as a crime fighter. Now my son can rest in peace!"

With that the dynamic duo left under police escort to police headquarters, to collect the Batmobile.

Before they left a few lucky photographers got the picture of the year, a tear rolling down the Dark Knights mask.

Bruce finally felt he had done the right thing for Dick, he had admitted to the world that he was proud of his son. 


End file.
